


Her New Life

by praxyn



Category: Original Work
Genre: Bestiality, Breeding, Dehumanization, Doggy Style, Dogs, Humiliation, Loss of Virginity, Other, Voyeurism
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-16
Updated: 2017-07-16
Packaged: 2018-11-30 14:48:42
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,722
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11465829
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/praxyn/pseuds/praxyn
Summary: A bitch in heat isn't good for much if she isn't bred.





	Her New Life

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Septemberific](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Septemberific/gifts).



Her new life had started when the master of the hounds had put a collar on her.

One might have said it had started when the revolutionaries had stormed the castle, when they had killed the royal guards and dragged the king and queen off to the scaffold, or when they'd taken Princess Mary from her bed and carried her out to the courtyard. When they'd ripped her clothes off and shoved her around and jeered.

But her new life had truly started when the Edmund, a vile, cruel man who'd been in charge of the royal hounds for as long as she could remember, had taken over, pushed her to her knees, and put a collar on her. She didn't know why the other men listened to him. She didn't need to know such things anymore.

Mary had been raised in the firm belief that she was to be respected, admired, adored. That she would have her every wish, the prettiest dresses, priceless jewels, the handsomest prince to beg for her hand. It didn't take Edmund long to beat that certainty out of her. He took a switch to her ass and thighs until she couldn't walk anymore, and told her that from now on she was to crawl on all fours. He hit her hard when she spoke - indignant accusations at first, helpless pleading later - and told her that bitches couldn't talk. That's when her training started.

Father had used to say that Edmund could train any dog to do anything. Mary had never been interested in either the man or his filthy, stinking dogs. But her father had been right.

When she wanted to eat, she had to beg for scraps at the table, sitting at his feet and whining until he felt merciful. He hand-fed her - "stupid little lap bitch will starve if I feed her with the hounds" -, made her lick his fingers clean in thanks or she wouldn't be fed for a day. She expected him to demand worse things of her, those times when he put her head in his lap, but for all that he liked staring at her when she crawled naked over the floor, he didn't force himself on her.

What was worse than the humiliation of her nakedness, of having to crawl after him and lick his fingers, leashed like a dog while men jeered at her, was that he was "housebreaking her" - not that she was allowed in his house. If she relieved herself without permission, he beat her again, and the pain of it was so unbearable that she learned her lesson quickly. But the awful thing, the truly awful thing was, the longer she had to wait, the hotter she felt between her legs, hot and impatient and thoroughly ashamed. Naked and squirming, she couldn't hide it from him, and after that the waits grew longer and longer.

It had only been a week since she'd been collared, but already it was hard to think with the constant pressure on her bladder and the pain on her ass from the punishments, the collar tight around her throat. She tried to remember to hate him - Edmund, that vile, disgusting man, but more and more often she caught herself thinking of him as her master, feeling grateful when he let her have a tasty morsel at the table. The dogs were worse than him, hairy and smelly, always nosing at her when they were near, licking over her skin. Her master would laugh then. 

"Look, the bitch is making new friends!"

It was a bright spring morning when he led her out on a paddock he used to train the dogs. She hadn't been allowed to relieve herself yet, and she squirmed awkwardly while crawling after him. There were lots of men standing by the paddock - more than since the very first day, but the novelty of seeing the princess like this had been starting to wear off.

"Sit, bitch," her master commanded, and she sat down with her ass on her heels. He smacked her breasts with the switch to correct her posture, making her push her chest out. Her nipples were hard in the cold morning air. Some of the men cheered and she closed her eyes - nobody had been allowed to look at her this way when everything had still been right. Nobody had been allowed to see her naked and kneeling.

Her master stood in front of her, large and looming, the ever-present switch in his right hand while his left hand produced a small blue vial. The color was too vibrant to be real - she'd seen colors like this before - the potions of the realms' wizards.

"I've got a present for you, _Princess_." He grinned down at her - he never called her that anymore, always quick to remind her that she wasn't a princess anymore, just a dog. He opened the vial and poured the content onto his palm. For a moment a rebellious thought occurred to her, to push him or bite him, but she saw the dreaded switch under his arm, and her ass was still smarting from the last time she'd made the mistake of speaking. She bowed her head and lapped the bright blue fluid off his hand. His meaty, dirty hand scratched her behind the ear.

"I always thought our princess here behaved like an unfucked bitch in heat, like she just needed a good reaming and a belly full of come to stop being such an arrogant brat." He was speaking to the other men - the _audience_ , she realized, while a weird warmth spread through her belly. "But I'm not going to stick _my_ dick in a bitch."

He yanked hard on her leash so she was pulled down onto all fours, then smacked her ass hard with the switch when she wasn't fast enough to get her ass in the air. Another yank on the leash made her dizzy.

"Eyes ahead, bitch."

She was so disoriented for a moment that she didn't understand what he said next, didn't hear the steps behind her until she felt a wet dog nose between her legs, sniffing and nuzzling. She yelped, so surprised that she couldn't hold back a loud "No!"

Her master slapped her hard, and she knew the only reason she had escaped the switch was because the dog was in the way. She glanced back over her shoulder before she quickly looked back at the, the audience. The biggest of the hounds was behind her, a monstrous beast that looked like it was part wolf. He'd always been the most aggressive about nuzzling and licking her, but never like this. He kept licking between her legs, large swipes of his rough tongue over her cunt and up to her asshole.

"You sure she needs that? She's probably already wet!" one of the men yelled from the fence. She knew him, he used to - do something at court. She'd always thought he'd liked her.

Her master laughed and said, "Come on, boy, she's yours."

Mary gasped for air when the large hound mounted her, heavy and covered with coarse fur, while the leash and the fear of the switch kept her in place. Her last thought before he thrust into her was that she was still a virgin, that she'd been meant to marry next year, a handsome prince who'd worship her all night before begging to be allowed to deflower her.

It didn't seem that bad at first - painful, but not as big as she'd expected considering the size of the hound. His panting in her ear and his foul breath seemed far worse, but then - then he started to grow inside her, filling and stretching her. She tried to scramble away, but his bulk kept her in place. As if it wasn't already tearing her open, the hound's cock suddenly swelled further at the base, just at her stretched, hurting entrance. The hound kept rocking into her, pushing her body forth and back, making her breasts bounce hard. Her body was so full she couldn't keep her moans and groans inside, even though every sound she made was answered by laughter and jeering from the crowd.

"Not so high and mighty now, huh, Princess? With your teats jiggling," one of them laughed. Two of the men had opened their breeches and were stroking their own cocks, and she couldn't make herself look away. Couldn't help but wonder if those cocks would hurt less than the thing inside her. The hound was still panting heavily, and then she felt fuller still. Her confused brain only realized what that had to mean when the hound slid off her, but he - he wasn't gone. His cock was still inside her, so thick at the base that she was yanked backwards with him when he made a step away from her. He didn't move anymore, was just fat and heavy inside her, frustratingly still while she clenched around him in a helpless attempt to feel something more.

"He'll keep you knotted for a bit, Princess," she suddenly heard her master's voice right next to her ear. He was pulling her head up again, so the men could see her tear-streaked face and her breasts. She could barely keep her balance on her knees with the thick cock lodged inside her. "That gives his seed more time to settle in your womb."

She gave him a confused look. His mean little eyes stared down at her and he grinned.

"A bitch in heat isn't good for much if she isn't bred. By the time the boys are all done with you, you're going to have a big litter inside you."

The true meaning of the blue vial started to dawn on her and she tried once again to scramble away, as if she could undo what had just happened. But the big knot sat firmly in her cunt, keeping her mated to the big hound even before her master yanked her backwards by her leash.

"The first of many," he said. "I thought about putting you in the kennel, but I think you'll stay out here, where my boys can have their fun with you any time they like, and my friends here can watch you trying to come on their knots."


End file.
